


new traditions

by carminnat



Category: Uncharted (Video Games), Uncharted 4 - Fandom
Genre: Adventure, Age Difference, Christmas Fluff, F/M, Fluff, One Shot, holiday-themed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-11 23:02:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9038780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carminnat/pseuds/carminnat
Summary: Venturing across Russian lands with an ex-con in search of a treasure you still think isn't there... Well, there's a way to spend the holidays.





	

Glancing down at your watch, you realize you’ve been trudging through these wintery lands at Sam’s side for about four hours now. Other than wandering and narrowly avoiding death, you’ve been killing time by exchanging small bouts of playful banter concerning the uniqueness of your situation. 

It’s Christmas Eve, and here the two of you are, scaling mountains and dodging nearby mercenaries in search of a possibly mythological treasure.

Not that Sam would, at some degree, accept that the treasure isn’t where he “knows” it will be. But in the months you’ve been working alongside him and Sully, he _has_ proven you wrong, and he has never let you forget that he has.

“You holding up all right there?” he had asked you earlier.

You nodded. “Knowing that we’ll find _something_ by the end of the day is all that’s keeping me going,” you replied dryly. 

“Hey, we will!” he retorted with confidence, gently nudging you. “Your doubts wound me. And don’t tell me you’re not having _some_ fun.”

You sighed. “While I _do_ enjoy being shot at…” He looked at you, unimpressed, so you burst into laughter and nudged him back. “Okay. I’ll admit being here is _kinda_ fun, considering how I spent the holidays last year.”

“That bad?”

“Well, no,” you said. “Lounging in my apartment, a couple of beers, flipping through Netflix.”

He gave you a look. “And this year, you’re exploring Russian lands with an ex-con looking for a treasure you still think isn’t there.”

You smiled smugly. “Exactly.”

Sam chuckled. “Well, depending on how this day goes, we could be spending Christmas Day elsewhere.”

You raised a brow. “We?” 

He nodded and looked at you, a grin on his lips. “Unless, of course, you decide to back out last minute.”

“Oh, hell no,” you said, grinning back. “Not when we’ve made it this far.”

The grin on his lips was replaced with a genuine smile. “Attagirl,” he fondly said, patting your shoulder affectionately.

Something in what he said left heat rushing to your cheeks. You were suddenly very thankful for the cold weather leaving your cheeks already flushed. 

“Listen, kid,” he had called over his shoulder. Your shoulders slumped at the nickname, but nonetheless pulled yourself into a slow jog to catch up with him. “If you’re ever up for spending the holidays ‘out of tradition…’ Well, I’m definitely no stranger to it.”

You were curious now. “Yeah? And what’d you do when you were a kid?”

His shoulders stiffened and he paused in his steps. For a second you thought it was because you’d stepped over the line with your question. Sore subject, maybe? An apology crept its way on your lips, but you were interrupted by the sound of a bomb being set off and sudden gunfire erupting from around you. Sam shouted for you to find some cover, and you didn’t hesitate to duck behind a nearby crate, gun at ready.

Now, in the clear from the mercenaries, Sam pulls you up from a near cliffside rather effortlessly. “Check out this view,” he tells you when you’re back on your feet, gesturing to the vast landscape beyond your viewpoint.

You turn to look. It _is_ a very impressively breathtaking sight; the setting sun on the horizon, light reflecting off the snow. 

“Another plus to all of this, eh?” Sam says next to you.

You chuckle softly. “Oh, yes. We should make this a new holiday tradition.”

“Snowy, sunset, vaguely romantic… Why the hell not?” 

“You forgot getting shot at,” you point out.

“Right. That’s a _must._ ”

The two of you resume in your venture, roaming through the lands until you find yourselves in ruins—what’s left of an old structure. Finding nothing there, you continue along.

“You know,” you say. “You never answered my question from earlier.”

He sucks in a breath, wrapping an arm around you, leading the way ahead. “Okay, well, once upon a time, way back when, a million years ago…” he starts. You laugh softly. “I spent Christmas Eve like anyone probably would’ve. Dinner with the family, my brother and me opening presents the next morning…” He sighs. “Short-lived. Honestly, I hardly remember any of it.”

“Why?” you found yourself asking.

He shrugs, glancing elsewhere. “I guess I had to grow up quicker than most kids did,” he admits lowly. “It was tough, I’ll tell ya. After I turned ten, every year was a hassle making sure Nathan got the gift he wanted.”

You press your lips together, looking up at him. “So I’m guessing you were the best big brother in the world?”

He shrugs again, smiling and meeting your eyes. “Probably. He never told me otherwise.”

You smile back. “And now?”

He huffs again. “Polar opposite. I am _the_ worst brother in the world, apparently.”

You laugh, leaning into him more and reaching a hand up to place over his. “That can’t be true,” you say. “He loves you.”

He chuckles. “Yeah, who wouldn’t love an ex-con with a knack for trouble?”

You hold his stare, still smiling. You swear his eyes shoot to your lips for a brief second. He clears his throat then, releasing you.

“Speaking of which,” he says. “We got a treasure to find.”

**XXX**

The two of you do end up managing to scrounge up something in the mountains. A new lead, in fact. You take it up with Sully later that night back at the hotel over a store-bought dinner. “Merry goddamn Christmas,” Sully had announced after Sam and you stumbled through the door to the food set up in an unorganized fashion on a small wooden table in the middle of the room. The three of you deduce you’d be leaving to the next destination tomorrow afternoon. 

Back in your room, you find yourself barely taking in the details of the research. Your mind is flooded with thoughts of your conversations with Sam earlier. Though definitely not typically the most romantic kind, they were intimate. Despite the fact that you’ve been working with him for months, it’s rare for Sam to share his life with you. 

Knocks on your door springs you back on your feet. You open it, and then he’s standing there, looking almost nervous.

“You okay there, Sam?” you ask.

“Yeah, it’s just…” He points to the doorframe above your heads. “Mistletoe.”

Your brows furrow and look up. There’s no mistletoe there. “Uh, there’s nothing—”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” he mutters, stepping forward and cupping both your cheeks in his hands, meeting your lips with his. 

You are stunned—so much so you can hardly respond to his kiss. Your lack of a response is perhaps why he pulls away. He averts his hands away from you back to his sides, looking down and visibly swallowing.

“Sorry,” he says. “I just… I had to—”

You brush your fingers against your lips, still shocked. But you reach forward and place your hands on his neck, tugging him down to press his lips back against yours. 

Stumbling backward into your room, he kicks the door shut. Within seconds he has you pinned against the bed.

“This a part of our new holiday tradition?” you ask, breathless.

He chuckles, his breath warm against your skin. “Nah.”

You frown. “What?”

He meets your eyes, grinning. “Why keep it exclusive to the holidays?”


End file.
